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FIC: Musings On A Woodland Nymph Toad/Storm PG-13

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  • Alyx Alexandre
    Title: Musings on a Woodland Nymph, Parts 1 & 2 Date: January 2001 Author: Alyx Alexandre (alyx68@yahoo.com) To: x-menrealm@egroups.com,
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 7, 2001
      Title: Musings on a Woodland Nymph, Parts 1 & 2

      Date: January 2001

      Author: Alyx Alexandre (alyx68@...)

      To: x-menrealm@egroups.com,
      ToadEstrogenBrigade@egroups.com, X-MenFic@egroups.com,

      Pairing: Toad/Storm

      Category: POV

      Rating: PG-13 for stalking, voyeurism & cleavage!

      Archive: http://www.angelfire.com/ma3/padders
      Please notify me beforehand if you would like to
      archive this fic. My name, website link & e-mail
      address must remain attached.

      Note: Part 1 takes place a few weeks before 'X-Men,
      the Movie' begins.

      Spoilers: 'X-Men, the Movie' & both versions of the
      screenplay adaptation inspired this.

      Summary: Toad tries to recapture his past.

      Feedback: Yes indeed! (alyx68@...)

      Disclaimer: No money made, they are not mine. X-Men
      are the property of Marvel Comics.

      Special thanks to my all my patient and lovely Betas:
      Flounder, Darth Malinga, Meghan K, Jemisard, Tessa,
      Siubhan and my partner-in-crime and Web Mistress,
      Boots! Smooches to all!

      Author's Note: I do not condone or approve of
      stalking. I do understand obsession though.

      Musings on a Woodland Nymph Pt. 1
      by Alyx Alexandre

      The first time I visited, I was surprised at how
      simple it was to gain entry onto the grounds and into
      her room. I thought their security would have been top
      notch but getting into the mansion was easy. Well,
      easy for me anyway.

      I was drawn to that particular room, partially because
      of the open window but mainly because of the wonderful
      fragrance that drifted out of it - roses, orchids,
      lilies, birds of paradise, and tulips. The mixture of
      scents coming through that open window was incredible.
      Whatever was inside that room smelled even better than
      the garden outside where I was standing.

      I hopped through the window, lightly landing on the
      balls of my feet. It was *her* room. I knew it because
      plants and flowers grew everywhere. There was barely
      an inch of wall or floor space visible. Her room
      delighted me to no end! It was like walking into a
      mini rainforest. I felt completely at home. I looked
      around the moonlit loft, taking in everything, from
      the sights and sounds of the plants communing with
      each other to the small insects humming. Just being in
      the same space and sharing the same time made me
      lightheaded. The forbidden nature of it all was

      I peered around the corner to see the other part of
      the loft. I was greeted with the vision that has
      dominated my dreams & waking moments. I almost forgot
      to breathe but when I finally exhaled, I synchronized
      my breathing with hers.

      She slept on a four-poster mahogany bed that was
      draped with a sheer cloth. Her thick white hair
      shimmered in the moonlight. Her beautiful eyes, though
      closed, were enchanting. A smile played across her
      sensuous lips. Her shapely body was outlined under the
      creamy satin sheets. The white camisole nightgown
      highlighted the rich mocha color of her skin. The thin
      straps accentuated her delicate shoulders and slender
      arms while the plunging neckline revealed ripe,
      voluptuous cleavage. She was beautiful, my fairy
      princess. My eyes devoured her for the umpteenth time,
      filing away every little detail for future reference.
      I wanted so badly to touch her yet I didn't dare move
      from where I stood in the shadows. I don't exactly
      remember when I fell to my knees but since I was in
      the presence of such exquisite perfection, I paid my

      I know I may seem like the ultimate voyeur. Perhaps I
      am. I didn't come here to touch her. No, that's not
      why I come here. I just come to look at her. I
      couldn't believe it, really - that I found her, I
      mean, but I'm so glad that I did! If anyone had
      suggested that to simply watch this woman would make
      me happy and contented, I would have said lay off the
      drugs. Truthfully speaking, not touching her kept the
      fantasy alive. Even though I knew that this sleeping
      beauty before me was a Mutant just like myself, I
      wanted so very badly to believe she was much, much


      Because of my appearance, I was teased terribly by
      other children when I was a little boy. Like so many
      misfits, I found refuge in books. Colorful,
      imaginative picture books where everything was bright
      and sunny. No one teased, cursed, hit or spat on
      anyone. No one fought - unless it was a prince
      fighting a dragon, beast or witch for his princess.
      True, the girls and boys in those pretty books did not
      look like me but I didn't care. Those stories promised
      that if you wished hard enough, good things would
      happen to you. I identified most with the stories that
      had animals in them, especially those that featured a
      toad and a princess. The ending was always the same
      (they were so predictable) but I loved reading them
      anyway. The toad turned into a prince, married the
      princess and they all lived 'Happily Ever After'. I
      believed that one day a beautiful girl would come
      along, kiss me and I would turn into a prince. I
      really did. I loved fairy tales.

      As I got older, I learned that fairy tales don't come
      true, especially for someone like me. And plastic
      surgery was not an option. *Looking* like a toad was
      much more difficult that actually *being* a toad. If I
      were an actual toad, then my life would have been
      easy! I would have spent my days swimming, eating,
      humping & making sure I didn't end up as alligator
      food. But since I'm a Mutant who also looks like a
      toad, my life has been made into a living hell.

      Because I don't fit the standard of beauty, I've been
      labeled 'ugly' and 'bad.' As far back as I can
      remember, I have been treated terribly or neglected by
      those who were supposed to care for me as well as
      strangers. It is no wonder that the trusting little
      boy that I was became an angry man and resentful at
      the world. No beautiful girl was going to kiss me. I
      would not turn into a prince. I eventually realized
      that I would never get anything unless I took it by
      force. The problem with this course of action was that
      it put me squarely on the 'evil' side of the equation.
      I copped the tough end of the stick either way so I
      stopped trying.

      When I was a small boy I saw three wood nymphs - or
      were they fairies? Whatever, same difference to me. I
      saw them playing in the bushes outside my window very
      early one morning. I still don't know what woke me up
      at that hour. They were beautiful tiny girls with long
      silver white hair. Their happy laughter made me think
      of sunny days and ooh, they could fly! Looking at them
      play tag, as they darted in and out of the bushes, I
      experienced a special feeling of wonder. I knew that I
      was the only person watching them at that moment. It
      was like they were performing especially for me, their
      guest of honor. I also felt sad because I couldn't
      play with them. I knew they wouldn't play with me -
      none of the other children did. I quietly watched them
      have fun and I was happy too. But at the same time, a
      wave of loneliness rolled around inside me I began to
      cry quietly. I watched them play, with a confused
      mixture of sadness & joy, until they were gone.

      For a long time I never spoke of what I saw but when I
      gathered the courage to ask about fairies, my
      caretakers said stop talking nonsense, such things
      didn't exist. They cuffed me upside my head, called me
      stupid, gave me extra chores and that was that. But I
      knew what I saw that day and I refused to let go of
      that memory. Although the world gradually turned me
      into a hard man, a small part of me still believed. I
      knew in my heart that such things were real. If only I
      could have it again for one brief moment...


      About two weeks ago Eric gave each of us a dossier on
      the X-Men. When I saw her picture, I gasped. There she
      was. It was her - Ororo Monroe. The pretty almond
      shaped eyes, the silver-white hair. My wood nymph,
      without a doubt.

      Sabretooth looked over my shoulder and grunted, "Oh
      yeah! That chick is mine! I'm gonna squeeze her real
      tight and drink her sweet tears like wine. Then

      I flipped the metal-bound folder shut and whirled
      around to face him. "Shut up!" I snarled, royally
      pissed. I know what he is capable of. I wanted to say
      more but I didn't. My reaction already told Creed more
      than I wanted him to know. Shit.

      He frowned at me then smiled that lazy cunning smile
      of his and slouched away. Sometimes I really hate that
      psycho butcher. I don't underestimate him though. He
      may come off like an idiot but I've seen him in action
      and I know better.

      I opened the file and inspected the contents once
      again. The summary described her mutation as having
      the ability to control the weather & other elements of
      nature, hence the codename 'Storm'. Plus, she could
      also fly. Well, if that's not the definition of a
      nymph I don't know what is. I *had* to see her and
      quickly before all hell breaks loose.

      Eric will launch his attack on humanity as soon as we
      get that powerful Mutant girl he covets. The
      Brotherhood will strike first of course; we always
      engage with the surprise attack. I will only have time
      to do my job. When Storm and I meet face to face it
      won't be pleasant, for either one of us. I'll have to
      fight her myself to make sure that Creed doesn't get
      his filthy claws on her. I'm looking forward to our
      meeting & dreading it too.


      As I turn to leave her room, this peaceful sanctuary,
      I look at her for what could be the last time in this
      setting. Watching her sleep, so safe & secure, I
      desperately wish for something better in my life. I
      wish that things could have been different for me but
      it's too late now.

      I chose a side in this war for better or for worse; it
      may or may not be the right side.

      Thing is, I'm not on *her* side and when I see her
      again one of us may not survive.

      End Part 1 of 2.

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